Chapter 7 - Blood on the Marble
The helicopter dropped low over the misty lawns of the Blackwood estate, its searchlights cutting through the driving rain.
Two dark SUVs were smashed through the front glass conservatory doors. Smoke curled from the high arched windows of the grand ballroom.
The helicopter skidded onto the wet grass, and before the skids even touched the turf, Ronan and Ivy vaulted out into the storm.
Inside the grand foyer, the scene was chaos.
Three of Dominic Vance’s mercenaries lay unconscious on the floor, courtesy of Bruno, who was standing over the cellar door, his chest bleeding from a graze wound, standing like a dark demon guarding the entrance where Malcolm and little Leo were hidden below.
Standing near the grand staircase was Dominic Vance—a massive, scarred man in a leather coat, holding a heavy assault rifle aimed directly at Bruno’s head.
"Shoot the damn dog!" Dominic yelled to his remaining two men.
"DOMINIC!" Ronan’s voice thundered through the ruined foyer like a thunderclap.
Dominic spun around, raising his rifle.
BANG! BANG!
Ronan fired two round-point shots with lethal precision, hitting Dominic’s shoulder and hand. The assault rifle flew from Dominic’s grip, clattering across the bloody marble floor.
The two remaining mercenaries raised their weapons toward Ronan.
From behind the marble pillar, Ivy stepped out.
She didn't hesitate. She fired the flash-bang launcher right between the two mercenaries' feet.
BOOM!
A blinding flash of white light and a deafening 130-decibel shockwave erupted through the foyer. The two mercenaries dropped their weapons, clutching their ears and eyes, screaming in agony as they collapsed onto the floor.
Dominic Vance, bleeding and disoriented, tried to crawl toward his dropped gun.
Ivy walked over, her emerald suit pants soaked in rain and blood, and brought the heavy steel heel of her discarded shoe down squarely onto Dominic’s broken wrist.
Dominic shrieked in pain, pressing his face into the wet floor.
Ivy bent down, grabbing Dominic by his collar, pulling his scarred face up until he was staring into her burning eyes.
"Touch this family again," Ivy whispered, her voice colder than the rain outside, "and you won't live long enough to reach a courtroom."
She slammed his head back onto the floor, knocking him out cold.
The heavy steel reinforced door beneath the floor slowly creaked open.
Malcolm stepped out, holding a cricket bat, shielding six-year-old Leo behind his back.
"Ivy!" Leo cried out.
The little boy broke away from Malcolm and sprinted across the ruined ballroom, throwing his small arms around Ivy’s waist, burying his face in her wet emerald suit.
Ivy dropped to her knees, pulling the crying child into her arms, kissing his hair while tears ran down her face. "I've got you, Leo... you're safe. You're safe."
Ronan stood over them, his gun lowered, his chest heaving as he watched the woman he loved holding his nephew in the middle of the ruined, bloody room.
Bruno trotted over, resting his heavy, bandaged head on Ivy’s shoulder, giving a soft, tired sigh.
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Ronan knelt beside them, wrapping his massive arms around Ivy, Leo, and Bruno all at once, pulling them into a tight, unbroken embrace.
"It's over," Ronan whispered, pressing a fierce kiss to Ivy’s temple as sirens wailed down the distant driveway. "It's finally over."
